camping

My dad always enjoyed fishing, like many people do. I never could see the big draw, but everyone is different. Dad always seemed to think it was relaxing, and I suppose it would be. I think it is in some people’s blood. Dad always loved everything about the outdoors. Camping, being in the woods, and of course any kind of travel, were the kind of things he wanted to do. He wanted to give his family the gift of seeing this great country and the world if we wanted it. And he didn’t want it to be seen from 30,000 feet in the air. He always felt like this world was best seen in a car.

I remember camping near a creek or a river. It always seemed the ideal place. It provided a place to fish and clean up the kids, not to mention cooling off if it wasn’t too deep. And once in a while, we went to a lake. I remember the only time I really enjoyed fishing. We were at some kind of a company gathering, I believe. It was at Ocean Lake, and we were fishing from a boat for sun fish. Oh my gosh…they couldn’t keep our hooks bated. I was competing with another girl to see who would catch the most fish. We were out there for…maybe an hour, and I came back with 14 and she had 12. That was amazing. And I guess that is my problem with normal fishing…too slow paced. Mostly you fight for 1 or 2 fish…not 14. I guess I want more action. Maybe that is why I prefer hiking. I think Dad was blessed to have some sons-in-law who liked to fish, because for most of his life…at least when his girls were young…he didn’t have too many fishing buddies, so when the sons-in-law came around, it was his turn to have that guy stuff.

My dad was born in Superior, Wisconsin, right at the tip of Lake Superior, and lived in that area all of his young life. Like most boys who grew up in the Great Lakes Region, I suppose, fishing was a way of life, and my dad and his brother, Bill, were no exception. They were adventurous boys, and I have seen several pictures of them through those young years with their various catches. From a catch of a dozen or more fish, to this BIG beauty when they were 2 or 3 and 4 or 5 years old, they were just very successful fiushermen. So I guess, fishing was just in their blood. They had many duties around the old place, so I guess I can see how for two boys, the best way to relax was just fishin’.

One weekend when I was a young girl, my parents took us camping on the Hat Six Road end of Casper Mountain. Not many people went camping up in that area, and it was pretty primitive. No picnic tables or restrooms, just roughing it. It was going to be a nice quiet weekend. No radio, no television, no camper or tent, just us and our station wagon.

When we first arrived, we laid out a blanket under a tree, with the intent of stretching out to read a book in the afternoon sunshine. As we laid there giggling and reading, we noticed a sweet little bird, who seemed very friendly. She chirped and chirped, and hopped around very near us. We were astonished. We had just never seen a more friendly bird. We must have watched her for 30 minutes, as she became more and more brave, coming closer and closer, until it finally dawned on us that she was not trying to be friendly, she was really quite upset. We began to look around to see what might be the problem, when we saw very near our blanket, on the ground, her nest. We were so close that we could have easily crushed her eggs. She wasn’t being friendly, but she was very brave. She was going to fight for the lives of her little ones in the works, no matter what it took, or what it cost her. Of course, we immediately moved our blanket to a different tree to allow her to have a happy reunion with her eggs.

That was an amazing moment, but it would not prove to be the only special moment of that weekend trip. Very early the next morning, before the sun was up, a deer wandered through our camp. She wasn’t in a hurry. She just slowly made her way through the camp, oblivious to our presence, having her morning meal as she went, and after munching on the grass and flowers, she wandered on across the hillside.

That camping trip was so unusual in that we were the only people there, and it was an area where nature didn’t seem to be at odds with humanity. We felt a oneness with nature that I have never felt in quite the same way since that time. It was awe inspiring.

Most people remember little about their early years, but sometimes something happens that causes you to keep it in your memory all your life. Often these early memories are from traumatic or perceived traumatic events. Such is the case with me.

I was 2 years old when my family moved from Superior, Wisconsin to Casper, Wyoming. On our way, we camped out. Unlike today, people camping out might get to know their “camping neighbors” and even know their names. Such was the case with our family when we met the Sims family.

They were such nice people, and they were moving too. They had two children, but they were older than my sister and me. Our families had a very nice evening, and the next morning we left the campground and went on our way. It wasn’t until we had gone many miles that I would realize that I left my doll at the campground. I was devastated. I mean she was my baby!

When I was 3 years old my parents bought the home my mother still lives in today. As we settled in, and started to get to know the neighbors, we were very surprised to find that our neighbors across the alley just happened to be the Sims family. It was like so nice to move into a neighborhood and already know some of the people. And even better was the moment when they told me that they were hoping to see us again, because on the day we left the campground, I had left my doll, and they had saved her for me. I was elated.

Our families would live across the alley until Mrs Sims passed away. Mr Sims and their son Harold had passed away before Mrs Sims, and Julie had married and moved to Colorado. We were friends all that time, and Julie babysat for my parents until my sister was old enough to babysit. They even went to the same church as we did. They were a wonderful blessing to our family, and someone we always glad we got to know.

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